


like a camera sees a ghost

by littlesaintmick



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, This Is Not Fun For Dean Or Jon, Witch Curses, lots of talk of trauma, sex happens at one point after the first chapter, so tags will be added as that happens, uhhhhh i don't know how to tag this at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 09:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesaintmick/pseuds/littlesaintmick
Summary: sometimes you have to look back at who you were and what you did to yourself and you have to come face to face with that.





	like a camera sees a ghost

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from 'phantom limb' by seeming, which i highly suggest y'all listen to before/after/during reading this. 
> 
> fun fact: this originally started out as smut. i started talking to my friend the other night, and now it's this, with smut likely coming later.

Dean shouldn’t have swung his fist. Roman realized that immediately. He’d had an odd feeling about the person, they just had an aura about them that set off thoughts of ‘fear and respect this person at all costs’ like a blaring alarm. But Dean didn’t have those alarms, not really. Roman sighed and let him fight the person until it looked like they were getting seriously into it, and he stepped in, pulling Dean off of them, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and holding him tight.

“Okay-alright, that’s enough-that’s enough, Dean.”

Dean didn’t calm down very quickly, he was hyped up and far too energetic, and the person spit blood on the ground in front of them.

“You’ve got some real problems, kid-”

“Fuck off!”

“Let’s see how you like dealing with yourself, like the rest of us have to-”

Roman didn’t have time to think about what that meant before he was knocked to the ground by some invisible force, the person having thrown some kind of powder on Dean. He only came back to himself after a few moments, and Dean seemed fine-the powder had already disappeared, and Dean didn’t seem sick or anything. Maybe Roman had imagined it, and he dragged Dean by his waist to the car.

“What is your problem, Dean?”

“I didn’t like how they were fuckin’ talking!”

“That’s not an excuse!”

Dean looked like he was about to yell again, before he quieted, looking down at the asphalt.

“I...I know…”

Roman sighed, leaning forward, pressing Dean’s body to the car with his own. He knew the pressure and closeness helped Dean, and he rested his forehead against Dean’s.

“Bubba, I think-I think maybe we need to lay off drinking for a while.”

Dean slowly nodded. They both knew that sometimes Dean...was not the best version of himself while drinking. Dean hadn’t come to the conclusion that he needed to stop, not yet at least, and Roman didn’t feel comfortable pushing him. Roman inhaled and pressed a kiss to Dean’s forehead.

“I love you, Dean. Let’s get out of here.”

Dean climbed into the passenger seat and curled up, his knees against his chest as he looked out the window. Roman began their drive, the radio quietly playing. It was a long drive to their next hotel, but it went by smoothly for the first two hours. Dean relaxed after a while, finally un-curling himself. He even started to talk a bit before Roman heard him gasp in pain.

“Dean?”

Dean gasped again, the sound bordering on a shriek, and Roman pulled the car over. He unbuckled Dean’s seatbelt and the redhead stumbled out of the car, falling to his knees on the ground. Roman didn’t know what was happening, Dean had never looked like this before, and Roman had spent enough time with Dean to never really be surprised.

He got out of the car and came over to Dean, who pushed him away, groaning, his body twitching. He shed his jacket and shirt and Roman felt bile rise in his own throat at the sight of Dean’s bones shifting under his skin. He thought back to the person earlier, the powder. That must have caused it.

Roman didn’t quite know how to describe what happened next, the way that Dean’s body….split, essentially; there was no blood or gore, it was more like seeing a strange kind of molt, but instead of a layer of skin, there was another body forming out of Dean. A mirror of him, emerging from his back as Roman watched in horror. Both bodies screamed, the new one’s voice rough and unused, Dean’s filled with pain. Once the bodies separated entirely, Roman dropped to his knees at Dean’s side, rubbing his back as he threw up repeatedly. He looked over at the other body, the air in his lungs leaving him.

It was definitely Dean, but...younger, almost. Different, definitely, and when the body-the other Dean, when he looked up, Roman recognized immediately that it was Jon.

Jon Moxley was more than a character Dean had played in the ring. Jon had been with Dean his whole life, he was who Dean became when life was too much and too hard for him to deal with. Jon wasn’t quite a different person, but he was different enough to be distinct. Roman had met Jon plenty, especially when he and Dean had first met years ago. As Dean got a better hold on his mental illness and grown more, Jon was needed less and less. Roman watched as Jon-this new, physical Jon looked around, covered in dirt and some kind of weird slick. Roman helped Dean to sit up, his stomach empty now.

“Dean?”

“What-what happened-”  
“I don’t-that person from earlier-they were a fuckin’ witch or something-they did something and-Dean-Jon is here-”

Dean’s eyes widened and he pressed against Roman’s chest at the sight of-well, himself, essentially, and Roman could see the shock setting in. Jon panted, blinking fresh eyes.

“Where am-where am I-why am I-what-”

Roman took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

“Let’s...let’s get in the car-we can figure this out somewhere that’s not the middle of the desert.”

Dean’s clothes were torn, and Roman went to his bag and got clothes for the both of them, making sure they were both warm and he herded Dean and Jon into the car. He was extremely freaked out by this entire thing, but his instinct to take care of his boyfriend-and his boyfriend’s….alternate personality, took over. Roman sat in the driver’s seat, taking a few minutes to collect himself. He looked at both Dean and Jon, and couldn’t even quantify his thoughts. He just drove, the last hour and a half to the hotel entirely silent in the car. Roman kept glancing in the backseat, watching Jon in the rearview mirror. His face was more youthful and smooth, messy red curls hanging in his face. It was what Dean looked like in his twenties, and Roman-even through the weirdness of the situation-couldn’t help but think that Jon was beautiful. Roman focused back on the road, driving until they reached their motel. It was the only one near, and it was a little dingy, but it was good enough. Roman parked and took a few deep breaths.

“I’m gonna go check in. Do not do anything. Either of you. Just-stay here until I come back.”

Dean nodded, and Roman looked back at Jon until he agreed, too, curled up like Dean had been earlier. Roman walked to the little front lobby area, quickly and efficiently checking in, walking back out to the car and considering his current situation.

The facts were that somehow, some way, Jon Moxley had been separated from Dean Ambrose and was now his own physical entity. Roman didn’t even particularly care about the ‘how’ part. It was in the past and this was the present, and they had to deal with that. He wondered if Jon was permanent, or if he’d disappear or disintegrate or something. He opened the back door of the car and gestured to Jon.

“C’mon. Both of you go inside, I’ll get the bags.”

It was still fairly early in the night, all things considered, and the air was clear and crisp and Roman led his boyfriend and Jon into the room. They each essentially picked different corners and hid in them, Jon sitting at the little table in one corner, Dean sitting on the tile floor of the small kitchen area. They really were too much alike, and Roman shook his head, trying to clear it as he went and got their things. This was without a doubt the strangest thing he’d ever experienced. Of course, he assumed the feeling was worse for Dean-and maybe Jon, but he didn’t know how fully sentient Jon was yet. And it wasn’t that Roman had a hard time believing in magic or witchcraft, even as a pretty devout Catholic-hell, ever since Finn had come up to him one evening in his demon paint and said ‘don’t presume this to just be an act’ before winking fully-black eyes at him, not a bone in Roman’s body doubted the presence of More in the world, but this was his only real firsthand experience with it.

The aura the person from earlier had exuded made so much more sense now.

Roman walked back into the room to see that the two men hadn’t changed their position at all. He sighed, setting their bags down and going into the kitchen area. He sat next to Dean and bumped his shoulder against his.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“We gotta deal with this, Dean.”

“No, we don’t.”

“....Yeah, we kinda do, Bubba. I mean-we can’t just leave him alone or kill him or whatever, we have to-I mean, he’s a person, Dean. We can’t just abandon him.”

Dean curled in on himself tighter, resting his head on his arms, now that he was unable to hide his face under hair. Roman sighed. Dean was clearly not going to initiate this, but they had to figure something out. Roman stood and walked over to the table, sitting in the one other chair across from Jon.

“Hey.”

Jon was clearly wary, but he nodded at Roman.

“Hey.”

“So….Jon, right?”

Jon nodded.

“Knew from the moment I saw you. Are you-do you feel-I don’t know how to say this other than are you a full person?”

Jon snorted.

“I got a fuckin’ body and brain, don’t I?”

Roman rolled his eyes. He should’ve expected that.

“I mean, do you feel…in control? Do you feel like you’re the one in charge of your body? Are you fully sentient?”

Jon held his legs against his chest tighter, and Roman frowned; he looked so young, trying to hide any fear that showed on his face.

“I guess. I just….kinda feel like me? Like-when I was the one piloting him. I feel like me, but-without him.”

“Without Dean?”

“Yeah.”

Jon was quiet for a minute, biting his lips, and he looked up at Roman through bright red hair.

“Is-is he okay? What’s going on with him? He won’t talk to me at all.”

“I think he’s just freaked out, Jon, and...can you blame him? That-I guess that person was a witch or something, they did some kind of magic on him to ‘make him deal with himself’. That’s what they said, at least.”

“....am I-am I gonna stay? What happens to me?”

“I don’t know, Jon. For right now, though, you’re here and with us. Do you need to shower or anything?”

Jon slowly unfolded himself, nodding.

“I….guess I could use a shower, yeah.”

He glanced at the kitchen area, and Roman stood, carefully resting his hand on Jon’s shoulder. For what it was worth, Jon didn’t flinch.

“I’ll talk to him. Go clean up, I’ll get you some new clothes.”

Roman grabbed some of his own clothes-sweats and a tshirt and the hoodie he’d put Jon in originally-and handed them off to Jon, listening to the shower start behind the thin, closed door. He went back into the kitchen and leaned on the counter, looking down at Dean.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.”

“Meant in the head.”  
“You mean how do I feel at the sight of my fuckin’ alter personality or whatever in the fuckin’ flesh and blood?”

“Yes, Dean. That’s what I mean.”

Dean shrugged.

“Guess...weird, mostly. I don’t know what to do right now.”

“Talking to him might be a good start.”

“What the fuck do I even say?”

Roman sighed.

“I really...I don’t know, Dean. I don’t know what to do here, but would you rather talk, or sit in an awkward fuckin’ silence all night?”

Dean frowned up at him, and Roman did truly want to kiss the lines of his forehead. He really liked the haircut, though he realized that was an odd thing to think about in their current scenario. Roman sighed again and kneeled down next to Dean.

“Can I touch you right now?”

Dean nodded, and Roman wrapped his arms around him, pressing his nose against the buzzed-short hair, inhaling Dean’s smell, feeling the same sort of overwhelming peace he always did when he got a concrete reminder of Dean’s existence. He held him for a few minutes, letting Dean relax against him at his own pace. Dean’s hand came up to grip Roman’s arm, his fingertips slowly stroking the tattooed skin.

“I don’t know what to do, Rome. I-what do I say to him-me? He’s me, I mean..how do I even…”

“We’ll figure it out, baby. We will.”

Dean looked up at Roman, his blue eyes big and stormy and gorgeous as ever.

“Thanks. Kinda needed...felt myself getting away from me for a bit there.”  
Roman kissed the top of Dean’s head and helped him to stand. Dean pressed himself fully against Roman’s body for a second, still needing the comfort and reassurance, and Roman giving it without thought. He grabbed Dean’s hand and led him to the bed, grabbing some clothes for Dean to change into. He helped him change, rubbing down Dean’s still-tense muscles as he did. It helped, visibly, and Dean relaxed, curling up under the thankfully-thick blanket. Roman heard the shower turn off, and he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Jon.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Maybe. Gonna see. Don’t think I have a choice, Ro.”

The bathroom door opened, and Jon emerged, somewhat dwarfed by Roman’s clothes. It was pretty cute, only increasingly so as Roman realized that Jon didn’t know where to sit.

“C’mere. You can sit on the bed.”

“Oh-no, I can-I’ll sleep in the car or on the floor or somethin’-”

Roman frowned.

“It’s your first day in your own body, Jon, you’re sleeping on the bed. It’s big enough for all of us.”

Roman did glance at Dean, to make sure he was okay with this development, and Dean shrugged, too tired and worn out to care.

“See? It’s fine. I’ll sleep between you two, if that helps.”

Jon nodded, his big eyes blinking slowly. There were so many similarities between him and Dean-Jon even curled up into a tight little ball under the covers near the edge of the bed to avoid contact, just like Dean had done years and years ago. Roman sighed, turning the lights off and crawling into bed, wrapping one arm under Dean and turning his head to keep an eye on Jon until he fell asleep.  
\---

“I know-I know, but he’s really sick, we just need a few days to get over it, I already took him to the doctor-”

Roman didn’t like lying to Hunter, but it was necessary sometimes, and moreso now than ever. They’d all decided to take a week before Roman and Dean went back to work to figure out this whole situation with Jon, and Roman was working under the story that Dean had gotten violently, but curably sick.

“...Okay, Roman. I’ll set it up. You both have worked hard enough to earn some time off. Tell Dean I said I hope he feels better soon.”

“I will, Hunt. Thank you.”

Roman hung up and rubbed his palms over his face, turning to look at the other two men in the room. Dean was awake, but Jon was still sleeping, and Dean was trying to subtly watch him.

“Dean, baby-”

“I don’t hate him.”  
Roman tilted his head.

“I don’t. I don’t hate him, I don’t-I’ve never hated Jon or anything like that, it’s just-this whole thing is hard and weird and that witch was right, I don’t-I don’t like having to deal with myself and I don’t know how.”

Roman licked his hips and frowned.

“Oh, baby…”

Dean came over to Roman and sat in his lap-it was almost awkward now with how he’d become bulkier-but Roman still loved it, and he wrapped his arms around Dean, hugging him close. He kissed the side of Dean’s head, over and over, until he saw Dean smiling a little.

“I know you don’t, honey. But-maybe he needs to hear that. I know you’ve never hated Jon, and-of course you know I don’t hate him. I think Jon doesn’t know that, about either of us. Think about how you feel when he’s the one taking charge.”

Dean swallowed and shifted a little in Roman’s lap, and Roman could practically feel him thinking.

“Guess I feel….kinda lonely. He does, I mean. I always felt...yeah, lonely, and kinda like-like a burden.”

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

Dean shook his head, resting his head on Roman’s shoulder. Roman held him there with one hand, the other on his thigh. They both so often needed comfort like this, being held and touched softly and sweetly, and Roman could only imagine how much Dean needed it right at this moment.

“When he wakes up, do you wanna go and get something to eat? Think he might appreciate a real meal.”

Dean nodded.

“You not talkin’ a lot right now?”

Another nod, and Roman stood, helping Dean to sit on the table and going over to his backpack, pulling out a small notepad and a pen, one that wrote smoothly and easily in the way Dean required. He hated scratchy pens. Roman never made Dean talk when he needed to be nonverbal, unless it meant he needed to coach him out of a bad headspace. Roman sat on the bed, cross-legged next to Jon.

“Hey, bud.”

He knew how to wake Dean up in a way that wouldn’t startle him and it seemed to work similarly for Jon. The younger man blinked his droopy blue eyes open, looking up at Roman through messy bangs. Roman felt a blush come to his cheeks and he cleared his throat.

“Um-Jon, we’re thinking about going out for some food, if you wanna come. Thought you might appreciate a meal.”

Jon’s stomach growled, almost on cue, and he sat up, still sleepy and honestly, pretty adorable.

“Um...yeah, that’d be nice.”

Roman smiled at Jon-he had to be friendly, he wanted to be. He wanted Jon to be happy and comfortable. Roman glanced at Dean, watching as he watched Roman and Jon, and Roman stood and stretched. He caught Jon looking at him out of the corner of his eye, those pretty blue eyes trailing over the bit of skin that showed on Roman’s hips.

He tried not to dwell on that.

\---

Sitting at the table with Jon and Dean was...interesting. The two men still weren’t talking, at least not to each other-Dean was communicating primarily through his notepad or bits of the improvised sign language he and Roman had crafted over the years, Jon only occasionally muttering. Roman still smiled, friendly as ever, and he gently tried to coax conversation out of Jon. It took a while-and a mountain of food-but Jon finally relaxed a little and opened up.

“-so there was one time-we were actually at a place like this, with some of our old-I guess they were ‘friends’ but lookin’ back they were kinda jackasses, you know? But we were at a place like this and my buddies were like ‘let’s dine and dash’ and I mean, you know, not really my thing but I think I was high, too-and so we run out and of course my ass is sprinting out of there but I guess my buddies had eaten too much cause two of ‘em drop with fuckin’ stomach cramps like, five feet away from the door-”

Roman laughed around a mouthful of orange juice and liked how his laugh seemed to make Jon blush. It was a charming look on him, and he glanced at Dean, catching the way the corners of his lips twitched up at the story. It was progress. Roman and Jon continued to share stories, Dean occasionally getting into the conversation by shoving his notepad at Roman, his messy scrawl even messier when written faster. After a while, the three of them felt calm and relaxed. Dean still was nonverbal, but happier, actively smiling and even communicating directly with Jon. Jon, of course, didn’t mind the notepad at all, and even asked to try out the pen at one point.

He had the same look of simple satisfaction that Dean got, and Roman found it unbearably cute.

They left the restaurant after a while, Dean easily slipping his hand into Roman’s. Jon glanced at their linked hands and looked away, scowling a little. Roman wondered about that.

Nonetheless, the ride back to the motel was fairly lighthearted and fun, Dean drumming along to the songs on the radio on his thighs, Roman and Jon talking about their favorite bands. Jon’s musical interests were similar to Dean’s, if a bit more on the purely punk rock side. Roman really did like Jon. He was funny, and very sweet, if a little crass. But Roman liked crass, at least the way Jon did it. Roman laid on the bed once they got back, rubbing a hand over his stomach. He noticed both of the other men watching him, watching the action, and he grinned.

“You guys can come lay down with me if y’all want.”

Both of them blushed and Jon excused himself and stepped outside, Dean waiting until he was out of the room before coming and cuddling next to Roman. Roman wrapped an arm around Dean, holding him close, and he smiled at his boyfriend’s big blue eyes, they were wide and bright and Roman really needed to kiss him.

“How’re you feeling, babe?”

Dean shrugged, hiding his face against Roman’s neck.

“‘m okay. Still kinda freaked out.”

“That’s okay. That doesn’t surprise me, this is...it’s still a lot. But I think Jon’s feeling better, too.”

Dean hummed, apparently done with talking for the time being, and Roman took one of his hands and put it on his belly. It was still just a little distended with how much food he’d eaten, and he relaxed against the mattress as Dean started rubbing him, his big hand pressing down on Roman’s stomach just a little. Roman closed his eyes and let himself doze off a little, sniffing Dean’s hair and just feeling the calm of the moment.

He did blink at the sound of the door opening and Jon coming back in, still looking a little flustered as he came to sit on the edge of the bed, as far away from them as he could be.

“Y’mind if I watch tv?”

Roman smiled and shook his head, and Dean whispered something in his ear.

“Dean says as long as it’s not a horror movie and doesn’t have like, musical songs in it.”

Jon nodded and ended up picking a random cartoon, all three of them quietly laying on the bed, enjoying the relative silence.

“Roman?”

Roman blinked again-he kept almost falling asleep, pancakes just had that effect on him-and he turned his head to look at Jon. He was laying down now, too, facing Roman, curled up a little. He was cute. Roman smiled at him, still doing his best to keep him comfortable and feeling wanted.

“Yeah?”

“I….can I talk to you later? Alone?”

Roman frowned-he couldn’t think of why Jon would need to talk to him alone, but he was happy to do whatever Jon needed.

“Absolutely. We can go get some groceries and stuff.”

Dean squeezed him, and Roman turned his head and kissed Dean’s forehead.

“We won’t be out for long, Dean, I promise.”

That seemed to calm him down enough, and Roman sat up, sighing and rubbing his hands over his eyes. He stood and Dean immediately crawled into the space he vacated, trying to burrow into his warmth. Roman stretched, Jon following him out of bed. Roman leaned down and kissed Dean’s forehead, then his cheek, inhaling a little against his beard.

“Be back in a little bit, Bubba.”

“Love you.”  
“Love you, too.”   
Roman smiled and found his shoes and wallet and keys, quickly dressing and heading out to the car with Jon. He waited until they were moving before he asked anything.

“So what’s going on?”

“I’m…..I don’t know-uh-I’m not used to talking about stuff but I know-”

Roman glanced at the young man in the passenger seat; he was again trying to hide behind his bangs, his cheeks flushed. Roman did like that about Dean’s new haircut, he liked being able to see Dean’s expressions so easily.

“I know I can trust you. Every time-every time I’ve been piloting since Dean met you-I know I can trust you. But-I’m scared.”

He sounded like he had to force it out, that admission, and Roman pulled into the parking lot of a Walmart. He turned in his seat and looked at Jon.

“Scared of what?”

“I-everything, kinda. Dean. I’m-what if he-what if he wants me gone? What if he hurts me? I don’t-I finally have my own-I’m myself, and-I don’t wanna go-I wanna keep being myself but I-I feel lost if I’m not with Dean-and….I don’t...I like being around you, too-”

Roman reached out and gripped Jon’s hand between his own, stroking his thumb over the back of Jon’s hand.

“Hey-listen to me-listen, Jon, if Dean...if he, for whatever reason, tries to hurt you, I will stop him, okay? You haven’t done anything to deserve a punishment or anything like that. And-you know what, if he wants you gone, I’ll make sure that you can still be here. I don’t want you to have to go either, and I don’t want you to be on your own. You know I love you just as much as I love Dean. There’s no part of him that I don’t love, and that includes you, so I’m gonna do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

Jon bit down hard on his bottom lip, clearly trying to keep from crying, his blue eyes big and shiny and wet, and Roman reached up to brush away a tear that had escaped.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I know-you’ve been through a lot, a lot has happened to you already, and-you deserve a break. You deserve to just have a life.”

Jon sniffled and pulled his hand out of Roman’s grasp, turning away from him and wiping at his face. Roman sat back and smiled, happy to let Jon do what he needed, unsurprised when Jon changed the subject.

“C’mon, we should-we should get back soon-”

Roman squeezed Jon’s hand one more time before getting out of the car, walking side by side with Jon into the store, occasionally bumping his shoulder against the younger man’s.

\---

Roman ran back into the room when he heard the first raised voice. He’d left Dean and Jon alone for a while, expecting it to be fine, or at least not disastrous; they’d been fine all day, and he and Jon had had a long talk while they were out, just figuring out everything that Jon was feeling. He was scared, and anxious, and lonely, unsure of his place in the world, unsure of his place with Roman and with Dean. Roman couldn’t do much beyond reassurance and proving that he wanted him there, and he felt as though he’d done a good job so far.

He opened the door to see Jon and Dean standing across from each other, the bed between them, both of them looking furious. Neither looked away from each other as Roman entered, softly closing the door behind him.

“What happened?”

Nothing from either of them.

“Dean-”

“Stay out of this, Rome. This is between me and him.”

Roman took a deep breath, calming the little ebb of anger that had sprouted at that, and he sat at the little table, watching, ready to intervene if needed. He was willing to let them hash...whatever it was that needed to be hashed out, but he wasn’t willing to let them get violent. Dean squared his shoulders, Roman knew he was trying to psych himself up, he always tried to make himself bigger and scarier when he was afraid.

“Whatever your fuckin’ problem is, I don’t-”

Jon scoffed.

“What ‘my’ problem is? How about what your problem is? I’ve been out of you for a day and you fuckin’ can’t handle seeing me-”

“That’s because YOU are my problem!”

Roman’s eyes went wide, and Jon snapped his mouth shut. His lips trembled and Roman could see his hands shaking, and Dean...he’d never once seen Dean this kind of angry. But there wasn’t just anger, there was...shame, to his look, too. Jon took a deep breath and let his tears fall. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet when he spoke, and Roman felt every muscle in his body tense.

“I’m….I am your problem?”

His voice was cold, and distant, and Roman felt a little afraid for a moment.

“Who do you think made me that way? Who? Do you think I chose to be like me?”

The room was entirely silent beyond the sounds of heavy breathing, an occasional car passing outside, a few crickets and the low hum of the motel’s sign.

“I did not _ever_ choose to be me. You did. You put me in charge-you put me in charge every time that you were hurt, or you were scared, because you couldn’t be tough. You couldn’t deal with the world around you, and you made me, and you have the fucking-the goddamn _gall_ to be embarrassed by me?”

Roman glanced at Dean. The angry facade was slowly cracking, he could tell, and Roman wondered what Jon meant by that.

“All you ever did was hide. When we were younger, you’d hide behind me. You got to escape into a safe little place inside of you while I took everything-I took every beating, I took every nasty word and name-I took every single hurt that you ran away from and I fucking dealt with it, and _you_ are embarrassed by _me_? You made me into-fuck, a catalyst for your fear, every time-”

Jon’s voice broke a little, Roman looking between the two men over and over, his knuckles almost white as he gripped the edge of the table.

“-every time you ever thought-you get to run around now with Roman, but-I remember when you _hated_ that part of yourself-you hated that you liked men and what did I have to do? You made me say horrible fuckin’ things-because you couldn’t deal with your own feelings. We ended up hurting ourselves over and over again and hurting other people because you wanted to be like every other fuckin’ guy you knew-do you know how badly I wanted to fall in love? How badly I wanted to-to be with people, to love people, or just-fuckin’ live vicariously through you? For you to love people? And now that you do-I’m shoved away into my little box in your head now-I don’t get love? What? Am I not fuckin’ worthy of it? Are you afraid that _you’re_ not worthy of it?”

Roman’s eyes were wide as he watched Dean’s expression closely. He was no longer angry, he could see that. There was just-an unusual look on Dean’s face, a sort of childlike hurt and pain and that still-present shame. His blue eyes were wide, and Roman kept his breathing quiet.

“Dean-I-all I’ve ever been to you is a coping mechanism-something for you to hide behind, and-I wanted to be more than that, and you never gave a damn that I’m a part of you, I’m just as much of a person as you-”

Jon was openly crying now, his voice shaky and broken and wet. Roman wanted to comfort both of them, wanted to act on instinct and help them, but he knew he couldn’t. Not yet. He was almost shocked to hear Dean’s voice, angry and still behind that tough mask.

“I wasn’t-I was weak, okay, what do you want me to say-”

“I WAS A KID, DEAN!”

Roman and Dean both startled at the volume, and Jon was silent for a moment, fuming, before continuing.

“What do I want you to say? I was a KID, Dean, there’s nothing TO say! I was a kid and I-I had to go through all that-and I did it to protect you-because you were a kid too, and I went through all of that-I went through all of that so you wouldn’t have to-everything I’ve ever done, I did for you, and you have the fuckin’ pair on you to sit there and say I embarrass you...that’s fuckin’ gold, Dean. Absolutely fucking gold.

“You were always so afraid to just let yourself feel shit, you were always afraid to just acknowledge that you were in pain, or upset, or scared, and you created me so that you could just run away from reality and not fuckin’ deal with anything. I still-whenever I am in charge-we-our hands still shake, cause of the drugs and drinking that I did. I still-our hand, our right hand still hurts every time the weather turns cause of that time we were in a car crash and didn’t tell anyone-I still remember every bad thing I did, and I had to be the one to do that because that’s how you escaped, you put me in charge and then you left me to hurt myself cause your body hurtin’ was the only way you’d let yourself hurt-

“And fuck, Dean, I get it, you were afraid and young and stupid, but-I was all those things too and now I-now I’m out of you, and-and that means that you can’t hide in me anymore, and that means that I get to feel every little ache and pain and I get to have all the scars and I get to remember and-I had nightmares last night, my first fuckin’ night in a body, I had nightmares about what I’ve done to people-all because you fuckin’ abandoned yourself. You abandoned yourself and you abandoned me.”

Roman’s lips had parted, his own breathing heavier. He distantly felt wetness on his own cheeks, and looked to Dean; he looked….broken, really, tears coming in thick tracks down his round face and catching in his beard, his expression the purest look of sadness Roman had ever seen on a person. He looked to Jon, next, and there was anger and despair and pain in his face, and he shook his head, bangs falling into his eyes.

“Fine. If I embarrass you, I’ll go-I’ll fuckin’ go, and you’ll be done with me, and maybe you can create a whole new fuckin’ you to hide behind from now on-”

Jon turned away from Dean and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Roman knew he should go after him, but he was afraid to leave Dean alone. He looked at Dean.

He seemed to be a little in shock, not having moved an inch since Jon left. Roman slowly stood, taking deep breaths, and he came to stand next to Dean. He tried to catch his gaze, tried to get Dean to acknowledge him, and only spoke when those big blue eyes glanced at him.

“Dean?”

“I hurt him so badly, Roman. I hurt me and him so bad.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and he sounded young, turning his head to look at Roman. Roman sat down with him on the edge of the bed, neither of them quite touching the other.

“Dean...I know you probably don’t wanna hear this, but-he was kinda right about some of that. You don’t ever...let yourself feel sad, or hurt, you always lash out or get angry instead, and-Dean, I know that’s cause you’re scared.”

“Guess that’s my defining trait.”

Roman frowned, looking at Dean; he was sitting with his hands in his lap, his head bowed down.

“Hey, don’t do that. I just-I mean-it’s okay to be afraid. I’m afraid a lot of the time. It’s not something you gotta run away from.”

Dean was silent for a few minutes.

“Can….I can’t...can I have a minute alone?”

“Are you gonna hurt yourself?”

Dean shook his head. Roman knew he wasn’t mad at the question. Dean was well aware of the fact that he had self-harm tendencies and that Roman had to be sure he’d be safe.

“I’m gonna go talk to Jon, Bubba.”

Dean nodded. Roman leaned in and quickly kissed him on the cheek, unwilling to leave without showing him some kind of gentleness beforehand. He saw Jon immediately when he went outside; he was sitting on the roof of the car, looking up at the lovely, clear sky. Roman sighed, climbing up to sit on the roof with him. They both sat, looking at the stars for a few moments in silence.

“So...that was a lot.”

“Had a lot to say.”

“Jon-”

“I know you love him, and I know I was harsh, but I told the truth. I’m not lying, and I know everyone thinks of Jon Moxley as a liar and shit-but I’m not. Not with this.”

Roman sighed again.

“I actually agree with you. On...pretty much everything you said. You were harsh, yeah, but Dean...he maybe needed harsh. But-and yes, there is a ‘but’-Dean’s trying, Jon. He’s trying to be better, and different, and happier-and you should get to be a part of that. You...God, Jon. You _were_ just a kid. You were young and you were in charge for the roughest, most painful years of Dean’s life, and-do you even know how much strength that took?

“You’ve been with him since childhood, and-you both survived it. You survived all that shit, all that pain-you should be proud, Jon. Maybe not of all the stuff you’ve done or said but you’re fuckin’ here, man, and that’s something to be proud of. And-don’t get me wrong, it hurt. It hurt hearing you say all of that to Dean, regardless of how true it is, cause...I do love him. I love Dean-”

Roman laughed at himself a little.

“I love Dean Ambrose more than anything in the world. And seeing him hurt makes me hurt. But...I think he needed to hear that. He doesn’t deal with his feelings, he never has, but he has gotten better. Dean is...he’s the strongest, smartest, most captivating and beautiful man I’ve ever met. And Jon, I know-I know you probably don’t...feel like this is known, but you’re a big part-the biggest part, probably, of what’s made Dean the man he is. He’s not...embarrassed _by_ you, he’s embarrassed that he doesn’t know how to feel around you.”

Jon was quiet again, and he brought his knees up to his chest, the same posture Roman had seen so many times in Dean.

 

“Wish’d he’d said that.”

He and Roman sat in silence for a while. The air was cool and calm, the sounds of the universe drifting around them. Had it not been for the deep emotional turmoil, it would have been romantic.

“Roman?”

“Yes?”

“Do you...what do you think about me? About...all that stuff I used to say and do?”

Roman thought on it.

“I don’t hate you, if you’re worried about that. Like I said, I think you’re strong. I think you’re resilient and brilliant and beautiful, just like Dean is. And I think you’re an integral part of the guy I love, so I guess I can’t really imagine myself ever feeling negative towards you in the long run. As for your past….I mean...it’s the past, Jon. You clearly regret a lot of that shit and don’t wanna be that guy anymore, and hell, most people don’t even get to that point. And...I mean...I understand why you’d do some of it, the drinking and drugs and...hurting yourself. I know why you did it, and-I don’t think less of you. I know Dean always thinks I’m gonna make a big deal over it, but it really doesn’t matter to me. You’ve both grown and gotten past your addictions and...at least Dean is getting some help with his mental illness stuff.”

“Kinda didn’t get the chance. What with not being real and all.”

Roman looked at Jon, his head tilted.

“You’re real, though. Even when you were in Dean’s body, you were still real. I think you two are-I guess...you’re both parts of each other, but I never really thought of you as the same person. You’ve always been a real, separate...entity, you know? Just inhabiting the same body as Dean.”

Jon was quiet for a while longer, and Roman didn’t push him to talk. This whole night had been...a lot.

“Do you want me around?”

“Of course I do.”

“You don’t….I mean-what if Dean doesn’t-”

“Then we’ll figure something out. You’re gonna be fine, I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Roman looked at Jon then, at his big blue eyes, stormy and dark in the dim lights from the motel, and at his trembling lips. He anticipated it when Jon threw himself at Roman, needing comfort and care and gentleness, just like Dean did; the main difference being that Dean had actually been able to have it, whereas Jon...had gone without. Roman wrapped his arms around Jon tight, one hand cupping the back of his head. He held him and felt him cry, silently talking to him in small bits and pieces.

Jon’s crying subsided around the same time Roman felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out, checking the text.

‘ _can you bring him inside? wanna talk to him_ ’

Roman put his phone away and sighed, one arm still firmly around Jon.

“Dean wants to talk to you, if you’re up for it.”

Jon’s voice was a bit muffled by Roman’s chest, but Roman found it endearing.

“Will you be there with us?”

“Absolutely.”

Roman hopped down from the car and helped Jon down, his hands tight around his too-thin waist. He still needed to feed him a lot more. They walked together, side-by-side, back to the room, and Roman walked in first. Dean was sitting on the bed, looking solemn, but...surprisingly peaceful.

“Jon, can you come here?”

Jon glanced at Roman before nodding and sitting down on the bed, in front of Dean. It was still odd to Roman, in the back of his mind, seeing the two of them together. He supposed having grown up around pairs of twins, the shock was a little less for him, but the odd thing was seeing Dean at the different stages; Jon, no older than twenty-five, his hair almost reaching his shoulders, fewer lines in his face (though there were still plenty), his eyes a bit wider, his body thinner and less muscled (but just as strong), and Dean, fully grown into himself, muscled and big and gruff and beautiful.

Dean took a deep breath, then another, before looking up at Jon. Roman sat at the table again, wanting to give them space.

“You’re right. I-you’re right. I-I used you, my whole life, and-I used you cause I was weak. And scared. When I-when we were kids, I needed...I was so scared all of the time, and I didn’t have anyone-no friends, or anything, but I had you. I had you in my head and I could talk to you, and I did, I remember I did-and I don’t remember things good now-but I remember talkin’ to you when we were kids.”

There was a tone, a quality of sadness to Dean’s voice, that Roman had never heard before, not even when Dean had broken down sobbing one night and detailed every horrific thing he’d been through to Roman.

“Uh-I-I never-I’ve never apologized to you, and-that’s really not fair. To either of us. I mean-you’re not me, but you are, kinda, and-I screwed us both over really bad. How I treated you-using you as a shield whenever I felt bad-you didn’t deserve that. You really didn’t. All you’ve ever done is be there for me, and you’ve helped me-and I never gave you a goddamn thing.”

Dean reached out, and Roman watched with wide, enraptured eyes as Dean took Jon’s hands between his own.

“I-you deserved to be a better person than me, and-it’s gonna be hard-not having you in my head anymore, cause-God, it fuckin’ feels empty, not having you in there-but I think-I still have a lot of fuckin’ problems and I’m kinda happy you’re out of me, cause I have to...I don’t have a choice, now, I gotta look at all the shit I’ve done in the eye and deal with it. I’m sorry, Jon. I’m sorry for what I put you through, and I’m sorry I fucked us both over by doing it. We both...we both really deserved better than that.”

Dean held Jon’s hands, stroking over them with his thumbs, and Roman watched. Dean seemed relaxed now, not happy, but calm, and Jon did, too.

“Thanks. I….I wanna help, Dean. I wanna get better, too. I just-do you-do you wanna keep me around?”

Dean’s eyes were wide and wet, and he squeezed Jon’s hands tight.

“I want you with me, Jon. I’ve never wanted you to leave me.”

Jon didn’t respond, his cheeks flushing, and Dean even smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, but he looked soft and sweet and Roman fell a little more in love with him whenever he looked like that. Roman cleared his throat and the two men looked at him, and God, both of them together really were a hell of a sight.

“Uh-I don’t know about you guys, but feelings things makes me hungry. Y’all want some food?”

Jon laughed and they all agreed, ordering pizza and putting on a movie, some 80’s action flick they could make fun of while they ate. It was comfortable and nice, and Roman laid on his back after a while, stretching his body over the bed and smiling. Dean and Jon both looked at him, then at each other, before Dean laid down on one side of Roman, Jon on the other. Dean reached over and pulled Jon closer to Roman, encouraging him to cuddle up to him. It took Roman by surprise; he’d been a little sure that Dean wouldn’t really want Jon to get too close to Roman, though he was happy for that not to be the case.

Roman did love Jon, every bit as much as he loved Dean. It was impossible not to, and he had wondered over the past day how he would approach those feelings, but he supposed-now that he knew Jon wasn’t going anywhere-that he had time to figure it out. For now, though, Roman simply wrapped one arm each around the two men, holding them close, quickly falling asleep from the fullness in his stomach, the exhaustion from so much emotion, and the warmth surrounding him.


End file.
